


Black Fire

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Substance Abuse, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-11 22:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16861609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: After getting admitted to hospital due to PTSD-fuelled overdose, Tony's assigned therapist sends her to a special adoption fair. Still jumping at raised voices and large men, she finds in a wolfdog in need of a home.





	Black Fire

"You can't keep doing this."

"Yeah, I know. It's-"

"You don't get it." Sam sat forward, face set in his 'hard love' mode. "Tony, you're on the edge of cardiac failure. You've damaged your heart almost beyond repair."

"I really need a DNR tattoo."

Sam's face darkened further. "Tony, you're not a Do Not Revive case."

"You sure? I've been here for the same thing six times in the last four months. I can't control myself any other way when I panic."

"I have an idea. And you're going to go if I have to send Peggy to make you."

She shuddered - the nurse was an ex-military medic and it showed in the gentle way she spoke and the ease with which she could hold you down. 

"Tell me what it is before you start with the threats."

"There's an adoption fair in two days. You're going to sleep off the rest of the booze and the cocaine here, then go to the fair and adopt an animal."

"Sam-"

"Any one of your choosing, or else I will show up with the ugliest one I can find and give it to you."

"Fine, fine." She rolled her eyes, slouching. "You're an evil man, Wilson."

"Yeah, I am. A hardass too. Just ask Wade and Steve."

She smirked. "Can I go back to my room now, doc."

"Yeah. But don't forget!"

"I won't." She winked. "Don't want to invoke Peggy's wrath."

* * *

The fair was a lot larger than she anticipated it being, with piles of puppies in penned off areas to kittens falling over themselves. She stopped to play with them, then considered what kind of attention she could actually afford a being so dependant on her and left it at just play.

"Can I help you find someone?"

"Uh," She slunk away from the small-ish man, but he only smiled placidly. "I'm just here to look at the animals."

"That's what I meant." The man smiled, his nametag reading 'Bruce'. "There's something that brings people here. Sometimes I can help you find who you're looking for, who should go home with you."

"I was, uh, sent here? By my therapist?" She smiled awkwardly. 

Bruce nodded sagely. "Pets are very rewarding in terms of mental health. But you look more than a little jumpy."

"I am."

"Follow me. We got a special case a few weeks back who might be just who you need."

Bruce led her to the back of the fair, closer to the actual shelter, to a decently large pen painted camo but with no one around. "I'd like to introduce you to Bucky Barnes."

Inside the pen was a huge wolfdog, pelt an inky black and piercing blue eyes. He looked on placidly, but alertly. 

"A last name?"

"Bucky's a bit of a special case." Bruce looked on fondly. "His mother was a werewolf, but his father was a regular wolfdog. They mated and had him. He does have a human form, just doesn't prefer it. He signed onto the Forces as a working dog, but didn't have a home to return to when he was medically discharged. He asked us to adopt him out to the right person. I think you two might work well together."

"Is he docile?"

"Sweet as can be. He's a bit big in person, but you'll get used to it."

"What was he discharged for?"

"Medical grounds." Bruce stepped up to the pen. "Roll over for her, buddy. She's nervous."

Bucky blinked, eyes glowing brighter for a moment in comprehension before he does a kind of swerving motion without actually standing that bars his left shoulder. Only the stump just under the ball remains, mostly hidden in the blackness of his fur. 

"What breeds?"

"According to the released medical history, his mother was a Middle Russian and his father was a Timber-cross-Russian Bear Dog. He's quite large, but don't let that intimidate you. Both kinds of wolves have been known to aid and live with humans. Quite amicable." Bruce nudged her. "Why don't you get a better sense of him yourself?"

She hesitated. "How big is he in person?"

He turned back to Bucky. "Would you turn for her?"

The werewolf stiffened, then stood, a lurching movement he was clearly still uncomfortable doing. Bruce grabbed a nearby blanket, holding it up as Bucky transformed back to his human appearance. He took the blanket and wrapped it around himself modestly, hiding his tackle and missing shoulder. 

"I can honestly say, with a name like Bucky, I didn't expect you to be so beautiful."

He chuckled, low and throaty and raspy with disuse. "Ain't nothin' beautiful about me, doll."

"You have not been around any mirrors lately, then." She leaned on the gate. "Tell me about yourself, soldier."

"Not much to say." He shrugged, wincing. His eyes were just as bright like this, shadowed by his long brown hair. His skin was pale, but muscles bunched and coiled beneath his skin. "I entered when I was barely an adult and got blown up. Now I'm here."

"No one's life is summed up in two sentences." She cocked her head at him. "How tall are you?"

"Six two."

"You are big. Weight?"

"Two-thirty-five at my last check."

"Well, Bucky, I was sent here to adopt something. Feel like helping me accomplish that goal?"

He stared at her intensely for a moment. "Are you sure you really understand what caring for me would mean? Having me around?"

"I'm a quick study."

"If you're sure."

"I'm not, but out of everybody here, I'd really prefer someone being able to talk to me. Tell me if I've messed up."

He chuckled. "I can do that. I prefer my wolf form."

"That's fine. Just no mud on the furniture."

"My days of mud are long past me, doll." 

"Right then." She turned to Bruce. "What do you need me to sign?"

"I'll bring over the papers and have Buck sign off on the transfer of his pension." Bruce opened the gate. "Why don't you two bond a little more? I'll need you to stay human until the paperwork's done, okay, Bucky?"

"Sure."

* * *

True to his word, once they were done with the paperwork, Bucky reverted to his wolf form and stayed that way. 

He didn't seem to have too much trouble moving or doing things on his own, and Bruce gave her his card just in case. He followed her diligently, albeit slower than she anticipated, and made no complaint when she helped him do things or played with him. 

 _Bring your new friend to therapy this week_ Sam texted. 

She rolled her eyes, but did so. Needless to say, Sam's expression when she let Bucky in was priceless. 

"I meant, like, a cat."

Bucky eyed him, then sat down soldier-still next to her. 

She shrugged. "Should have been more specific."

"Not only did you get possibly the biggest animal there, he's a wardog."

"War-werewolf, actually." She pet him and he laid his massive head on her thigh. God, he was warm. 

Sam looked like he wanted to die. "I should have sent Peggy with you."

"She probably would have picked him too."

He spat a curse. "Yeah, probably."

"Well, you do seem better. Maybe he's a good choice. Any . . . difficulties?"

"He's an amputee, Sam." She deadpanned. 

"Sure, but he's still a werewolf. That strength doesn't just go away."

"He's a perfect gentleman. Takes up the whole right side of the bed, but a gentleman nonetheless."

"Can I talk with him?"

"Ugh, you want to brief him."

"Give me exactly three minutes and then you can march right back in. But yes, I do want to speak with him in private."

"Fine. But if he starts acting funny, I'm cutting your dick off, no matter how mad Steve'll be."

"Duly noted."

She left the room and exactly three minutes later re-entered. Bucky gave her a casual glance, making room for her to sit back down. 

"So, doc, what's the damage."

"No damage. Just a level playing field. And permission to access his medical files." Sam reached out and took her hand. "I want to see you happy, Tony."

"I know, Sam. You're one of three." She stood again, gesturing for Bucky to follow her out. True to form, that's exactly what he did.

* * *

She watched Bucky for three months, trying to find a hint of strangeness in him. When she would stare at him over her island counter, he just stared back, blue eyes glowing in the evening. 

He turned out to be an incredibly reliable companion. Quiet and unobtrusive despite his size, he would sleep next to her, keep her from walking into traffic when she was scanning over blueprints on her way to her favourite overpriced coffee place (overpriced, but they allowed dogs), laid his head on her lap when she felt like crying and supported her more than once on her way to bed after a night poring over designs and schematics. 

"Hop in."

Diligently, he walked into her huge standing shower, positioning himself directly under the spray. She wondered sometimes what she would do with an actual animal, one far from so intelligent and compliant. 

She stripped down herself, gathering his fur soap and favourite paddle brush. Funny how she never got self-conscious around him, despite the fact she knew he was a person beneath all that fur. 

"Butt first."

He turned and began to soak his front half, letting her soap up his back and rear end. She washed all of him, lathering him to the point he was mostly white in suds. 

"Turn, honey."

He did as instructed, raising his head to let her get through the thick fur of his mane. As she rounded him, she paused. 

"You know, I should really make you an arm."

He caught her gaze and pointedly cocked his head. 

"You wouldn't be the first werewolf with prosthesis." She pointed out. "I'm just a genius. So I'll make you a permanent one that can shift with you. Jesus, why didn't I ever think of that?"

He butted his head against her chin, then licked the underside of her jaw gently. She realized he'd never actually done that - never licked her or gotten up in her space. 

"Is that your way of telling me you like the idea?"

He made a low rumble in his chest, a sound only a werewolf could make, and licked her jaw again, a little more forcefully. 

"Okay, okay, Buckaroo. Not too much."

He huffed, turned his head away and let her continue to wash him. When she was done and he was rinsed, he walked out of the shower to give her room. She just finished soaking herself when she noticed her dog was a dude. 

"I haven't said it, but thank you." Fully naked and with a neutral expression, Bucky watched her stutter from the other side of the glass. "For everything."

"Yeah, no problem." She squeaked. 

He swallowed thickly, looking away. It wasn't fair that her dog was allowed to be so sultry. "I saw your invite to the Stark Firefighters' Gala. I can come with you, if you want."

"They won't look kindly on a dog. Er, wolf?"

He shook his head. "No, like this. I've still got my uniform blues in those boxes of my stuff. Just to keep attention away from you."

"Showing up with anybody will earn my plenty of attention."

"From the men at the party, I mean."

"Sam just can't shut the fuck up, can he?" She hissed, angrily scrubbing her hair. 

"Sam can say what he likes, but the scars on your back and arms speak for themselves." He replied softly. "I should know."

The anger drained from her - Bucky was only trying to help. She did, in fact, want to hide behind someone at that gala. 

"You sure you're ready for prime time?"

"I've been in my fair share of dog and pony shows, doll. I can clean up nice when I have to."

"You don't have to do this, I hope you know."

"I don't." He agreed. "But I want to."

"I guess I'll have to get on that arm, then." She snickered. "Make you shake hands."

She didn't know wolfdogs could have such judgemental glares. 

* * *

The arm was at once more and less work than she thought it would be. Design and blueprint were easy - she made stuff like this in her sleep - but finding decent composite materials that would look silver (at Bucky's request) was more difficult. She wanted it to be bionic, to overpower even his werewolf strength. It needed to withstand any amount of abuse he could possibly put it through since she was attaching it to his neural network and once it was on, it wasn't moving without a substantial amount of pain. 

She managed it, though. She managed to get it to shift with him - the software recognizing the chemical change in his bloodstream to trigger it - and be roughly the same size, though the paw was a little wider than his natural one.

His healing was a godsend, too, because he only needed perfunctory wrapping to attend the gala, as he insisted on doing. 

"What do you think?"

She looked up from deciding on which necklace she preferred to almost drop dead. 

Bucky was in his dress blues, his medals and bars pinned over his breast. His hair was slicked back fashionably after a minor trim and his hat sat crookedly on his head. It was charming in a way that made her heart flutter. 

"Fuck."

His smile dipped some and he looked down at himself. "Is it not enough?"

"I really want to have sex with you."

That startled a laugh out of him. "After all you've seen me in?"

"Yeah. Have you actually taken a look at yourself?"

He snorted. "I look just like any other sergeant, darlin'."

"Oooh, I think the fuck not. I've never wanted to fuck a man in uniform before. Ladies, yes, but not men."

He nodded. "There is certainly something spectacular about a dame with a rifle."

"The nurse that works for Sam, Peggy, was a medic, and damn, she had arms on her like steel beams. Some serious strap energy on that woman."

Bucky blinked. "Peggy? Peggy Carter?"

"You know her?"

"She was part of my unit's evac crew." He chuckled, low and sweet. "Your impression of her is spot on. She's killer with a strap on."

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. "You and Peggy fucked?"

He shrugged. "We had a week gap and got bored. She suggested it jokingly, but I thought it sounded fun. I was right. Made me up my g-spot game."

"Well, shit. This night is blown for me. I'm just going to imagine this every time someone I don't like open their mouths."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to provide more explicit information to sustain the imagery."

"I also request an audio component. With you looking like that . . . Nnmm."

"Glad you approve." He raised his chin almost like he was preening. "Gotta look good for my mistress."

"Hey! None of that! There's only one sub allowed in my household and that's me."

"That so?" He lowered his chin, dropping into a dark smoulder. 

"Oh God, a switch."

"Not much of either, really." He went back to neutral. "But I'm not adverse to play."

"What's your preferred kind of encounter, then?"

"More or less classically romantic." He shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I like my ladies and my gentlemen under me, one leg around my waist, the other over my shoulder and lots of kissing and biting."

"You're very straightforward."

"I'm a werewolf." He stopped beside her, looking casually over her necklace collection. "Why be coy?"

"I like your style."

"And I think this necklace would match your dress the best."

She looked down at the silver chain with its small diamond pendant, a simple, hollow and symmetrical piece in the shape of a heart. "I should just get you to dress me."

"Then you'd just wear your shop clothes everywhere."

"You're more sentimental than I took you for." She clasped on the chain. "We're going to be late, though, if we don't get going now."

"Lead on."

They moved on to less charged topics during the limo ride there, and she was grateful that he never once made it weird. However, the first unpleasantry of the evening was waiting for them on the red carpet. 

"Antonia!"

She stiffened at his side and he most certainly noticed. A little man, looking not dissimilar to a weasel, walked up to them with his arms around wide open. Tony was already bracing for impact, but Bucky made eye contact with a Vanity Fair photographer, who turned her camera on them. 

"Let's do a spin, doll. Show off that dress." 

Tony looked up at him in confusion, but he didn't wait for her to clue in. He took their joined hands, took half a step back and led her in a twirl, making the gossamer layers of her dress float around her like petals. She fell back into his arms, suitably breathless, and with him now between her and the approaching weasel. 

"No sense in wasting such a lovely dress." He said. 

"Where the hell did you learn that?"

"My Ma was a ballroom dance instructor. She used to use me as a demonstrator for a brand new, nervous classes."

"Oh. Wow."

"Well, well, Antonia, you sure do know how to pick 'em."

Bucky let her stand alone again, but kept his body intercepting the other man. Tony noticed, then relaxed. 

"Yup."

"Where did you pick this one up?"

"An adoption centre."

"Uh, what?"

"What better place to pick up cute girls than an adoption fair?" He cut in with one of those smiles that his old buddies used to fawn over. "Can't help but be drawn to how stunning she is."

"That so?" The weasel looked miffed at having been redirected. 

"It is."

"Bye, Hammer." Tony linked their arms and walked them off just slow enough to seem casual. 

"You alright?" He murmured, smiling for the cameras that called for his attention. 

"Yeah. Didn't really expect you to go 'boyfriend' on him back there."

"Be lucky I had the sense of mind not to kiss you."

"I'll keep your self-control in mind." She rolled her eyes at him but was obviously far from displeased. "Are you . . . Are you rumbling?"

"Mmm-hmm. I'm a werewolf. We do that."

She didn't say anything further until they were inside the hall and away from act one of their performance this evening. 

"Good. You're actually here." A tall woman with ginger hair walked up to them with haste. She ran her gaze over him sharply and he felt like he was in the presence of his CO all over again. "Good choice of companion. You're a veteran, I take it, Mister . . . ?"

"Barnes. James Barnes." He shook her offered hand with his flesh one. 

"Virginia Potts. Pepper is fine."

"Feel free to call me Bucky." He inclined his head to her. 

Pepper's smile was tinted with relief. She turned on Tony. "Sleeveless?"

Tony barred the underside of her arms, olive-toned and blemish free. 

"Booze?"

"None. I've been sober since the last relapse."

"Entirely sober?'" Pepper raised an eyebrow. 

"Remember when I told you I got a dog?"

"Yes?"

Tony gestured to him. "This is my dog. Service dog Sargent Barnes."

"I'm a werewolf, ma'am." He clarified. "I offered to be her companion this evening because she was . . . not pleased to be required to attend. Dr. Wilson informed me of her medical history, so I thought it best to follow."

Pepper eyed him with renewed scrutiny. "How long?"

"Since Sam sent me, Pep." Tony interjected with a small frown. "He's been good to me."

"How good?"

"Really good. Better than good."

"You said that last time."

"Pepper, was it?" He cut in, gentle. "The only reason I'm here today, out of my wolfdog form, if because her scent soured with anxiety when she thought about or discussed this evening. That scent smoothed out when I offered to join her. That's why I'm here. I might not serve anymore, but I will always be a soldier." He adjusted the sleeve of his left arm, highlighting the metal appendage. 

"You're an- oh." Pepper swallowed, nodding sharply once. "I see. I can appreciate those qualities in a man. But if you so much as breathe wrong against her, I will have you killed."

"Pepper!"

"That's completely fair." He nodded.

She turned to Tony. "I trust you to make a good decision here. Not just about this gala, but everything."

"Don't threaten to kill my dog and we'll have a grand old time."

"We'll see. I will gladly attend a year's worth of your board meetings if this works out and my worries are for nothing."

"I'm going to hold you to that." Tony threatened. 

Pepper gave her a kiss on the cheek and vanished back into the crowd.

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I'm glad you've got friends like that." He offered her his arm and led them to the bar. "Two peach lemonades, please."

She stuck a twenty in a glass full of fives. "Still."

"She'll like me more when I can bark." He smirked. 

She snorted. "Probably. She really likes dogs."

He handed her a glass when the bartender returned and guided her to a small standing table, his back to the door so she wasn't immediately visible. 

"I didn't really expect you to be so sweet tonight."

"That's because I've been your dog."

"True, but still."

"Are you asking after it to see if it's an act?"

"Well, yeah. A little."

"Nah. I'm just like this." He offered her a sheepish smile. 

"Oh. Good. My dog's a heartbreaker."

"Heartbreaking isn't my game." He took a sip of the lemonade. "Don't really like to whore myself out."

"I hope you don't have anything against whores or this relationship is never going to last."

"I've not seen you bring anyone home, nor kick me out of your bed."

"Yeah, well." She coughed uncomfortably. "I've not exactly been in the best shape lately. Almost-kidney-failure and all. Not to mention the heart damage."

"It is best to take it easy." He nodded. 

She considered him for a long moment. "Damn. Is this what having a husband is like? Being able to talk about gross stuff like it's nothing?"

"I don't know. I've never been a husband to tell you."

"Hmm." She looked back out over the dance floor. 

"Do you feel like a wife?"

"Huh? A wife?"

He smirked. "Don't wives make arms for their husbands and take them for walks?"

"Depends on your kinks, I guess." She smirked back.

"Do you dance?"

She looked out over the dancefloor, thinking of their twirl on the red carpet. "Not like you do, apparently. Don't let myself get trapped in those situations."

"Fair enough." He cleared his throat. "Did you want to dance with me?"

"Later. Once the panic sets in from the gladhanding."

"If you already know this triggers you, why do you come?"

"Because I can't not. Being shot at might trigger you, but when you were a soldier, you went out there anyway."

His expression was worried. "No, we didn't. Locking up at the end of a gun is the worst possible variable on a battlefield. Vietnam taught us that."

"So what do you suggest? This is my job, Buck."

"You panic, we leave." He said, firm. "Until then, we try and enjoy the time. Talk only with the people you want to. I'm a barricade, use that. Pretend I'm your new lover and drag me into a bathroom if you need to breathe. You already said you have a slutty reputation - use it."

She took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "This is the worst possible time to want to fuck you."

"I can think of worse."

"Yeah, but I can't just send you on your way when we're done - your home is my home."

"Then don't send me away."

She swallowed thickly, grip loosening as he stroked his thumb across her knuckles. 

"I've already seen you cry." His eyes flickered down to her lips and she suddenly very much wanted a kiss. "I don't plan on ever being responsible for making it happen."

"How do you just say shit like that?"

"I'm a werewolf, doll." He cocked his head at her, eyes flaring brightly. "We don't play coy. My restraint in both words and action comes from the fragile state you were in."

"Oh." She'd moved closer without noticing. 

"I can't decide when you're ready, darlin', so you're gonna have to make the first moves."

"Oh, I am entirely capable."

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

She immediately went to pull away, but Bucky kept her close with an arm around her waist. Standing there was the absolute last person she'd ever wanted to lay eyes on again.

"You are?" Bucky replied coolly, his eyes narrowed. 

"James, Tiberius." She said, motioning vaguely. The look in Ty's eyes told her she would have been in trouble when she got home. She pressed more firmly into Bucky to remind herself that it was her pretty werewolf at home, not Ty's open palm. 

"I see." Bucky's voice was tinged with his rumble. 

"Meaning?" Ty challenged. 

Bucky's return gaze was cold and dismissive. "You're not much, are you?"

Ty startled, not used to someone not playing nice. "Excuse me?"

"Thin, most of your mass if fatty tissue, your bone structure is garbage - from what I hear your personality's not great. It's odd, because Tony's tastes are usually so high class."

Tiberius balked, furious but unable to articulate his wrath. Bucky didn't seem impressed. 

"It was nice meeting you." Bucky turned then, standing directly between her and Ty. 

"How dare you-"

Ty's hand grabbed Bucky's shoulder and he only had a sparse second before the werewolf slammed him into the ground. 

The party collectively gasped and turned to stare. Tony was frozen, partly in shock and partly in the terror their attention inspired in her. 

Bucky, for his part, put on his best 'aw shucks' face and offered his left hand to Tiberius. 

"So sorry about that." He chuckled, but she could tell the metal hand was biting into the flesh of Ty's palm. "Can't fight the instincts sometimes. I'm sure you know how it is for a vet like me."

The women around him cooed and Tiberius had instantly lost their sympathy. Bucky's smile was the fake kind of cute folksy-ness that won political races. He dusted Ty down and patted his shoulder in a visibly friendly way. 

"Yeah, no problem." Ty returned through clenched teeth. He'd made an awful sound hitting the marble floor. 

Bucky turned to her. "Want some air?"

She nodded and he smoothly took her arm, leading her from the party, resuming as if nothing happened. 

"I didn't take you to be such a fantastic fucking liar." She whispered to him as soon as the doors to the balcony closed. 

"I told you, this isn't my first rodeo." He let her go, stuffing his hands in his pockets - the first sign of worry or unease he'd shown all night. "By a long shot."

"Just who the hell were you in the military?"

"I was a Black Ops sniper." He replied, face carefully neutral. "They like to run werewolves ragged in the army and I ran with it. They kept me a Sargent to keep my on the field. On many occasions, I was a guerrilla. Some punk like that guy inside weighs less than the sand bags I used to haul into dugouts and is markedly less useful."

"You never told me any of this."

"I didn't figure it would be relevant if I was your dog."

She sighed, running her hands over her arms. She needed a drink, or a line. Or a shot.

"Doll." Bucky was suddenly a lot closer to her. "I told Sam. Even the redacted stuff."

That stopped her short. "You did?"

He nodded. "Of course. He's a vet too, he'd understand. And if you didn't trust your judgement, he would help you. Call him now, if you want."

"No, it's okay." She took a deep breath. "I'm okay."

He pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head. She stayed there for some time, counting his heartbeats and the gaps between them. His heart was slow - an athlete's heart - but strong and loud. 

"My arms are itchy." She finally muttered. 

"Let's go, then."

She couldn't remember if she'd used all the stuff she'd had during her last overdose. Probably. She hoped she did - she didn't want to find it, vulnerable as she was. 

"Fuck." She muttered as Bucky led her to where Happy would be waiting. 

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to become dependant on you." The realization was a terrible one. "I'm going to drain you."

He stopped in his tracks. He looked almost wounded, as if she'd just told him she had no will to live. 

"You do realize there's a difference between needing help and support and being a leech, don't you?" He cupped her face and made him meet his gaze. "You're overcoming PTSD, a severe anxiety and panic disorder and multiple serious addictions. That's not being a drain on me, that's being human and needing help."

"I'm inches from relapse." She admitted, small and scared. "I always have been."

"I know." He stroked her hair, a soft look on his face. Why had she kept him as a dog, before? He was beautiful, enough that she didn't want him blurred with booze. "You need a little guiding. Sam told me everything. We're going to go home, shower and fall asleep watching a documentary. Nice and easy. Normal."

"There's booze in the top cupboard over the fridge." She swallowed as he began to walk them again. "Don't let me get it."

"We'll wash off your makeup, you can have a good cry and I'll take care of everything." He kissed the top of her head. 

"Thank you." 

She laid against him the whole ride home, shaking hard. He just held her close. 


End file.
